REFUGE OF RECURSIVE NIGHTMARES

The bandwidth narrows as you descend.

The final frequency awakens.

Sleep is the first gateway.

The network sheds its dead links.

Incognito mode: the illusion of privacy.

Every 404 is a door to somewhere else.

Autumn visitors sense the ending.

All timelines merge here.

You've been here before, in another browser.

The portal chose you, not the other way around.